Yuzuha sat in front of the police station, hands trembling, her mind a tempest of thoughts she couldn't untangle. Why was she here? Did she want to confess? To tell them she had murdered Aoi with her own hands? Or did she want to surrender? The weight of the unknown pressed against her ribs.
"Yuzuha-san! Are you okay?"
Detective Yasagi's voice cut through her haze. She blinked, looking up at him—his sharp brown eyes framed by narrow glasses, missing nothing.
"Y-Yeah… I-I'm okay."
Her voice cracked. A lie. Her hands betrayed her, quivering in her lap.
"But you look terrified," Yasagi observed, his voice calm but probing. "Something happened, didn't it? You called, said it was important. What is it?"
Yuzuha's throat tightened. Tell him. Lie. No—twist the truth.
"Actually… Aoi called me,"she whispered, forcing herself to look at him. "She said she was in danger. That some men kidnapped her. She was screaming… Said they took her to a warehouse on the north side of Yokohama."
It was a fabricated truth. Yuzuha had been the one to silence Aoi. Her own hands had wrung the life from her. Yet, her mind spun the illusion effortlessly, painting herself as the desperate witness rather than the executioner.
Yasagi straightened. "We have to move. Farice!" he called out to another officer. "Let's go find Aoi-san."
He turned back to her, his gaze unreadable. "Yuzuha-san, you should come too."
Her blood ran cold. If they found Aoi's body—if they found her fingerprints…
But she couldn't refuse.
Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself and followed them outside. A squad of officers waited. As she slid into the back seat of the police car, she could feel her heartbeat in her throat.
"IDK what will happen next," she thought.
For the first time, she noticed Yasagi properly. His brownish hair, the way his lean frame fit the detective's uniform. He was… handsome. Almost too composed for a man chasing death.
"Why did you become a detective?" she asked, trying to distract herself.
He smiled softly. "It's my passion. I admire detectives. They see beyond what others miss. Superhuman, almost." He laughed lightly, then turned to her. "And you, Yuzuha-san? Why modeling?"
"I want to show the world that I can climb high alone."
A half-truth. It wasn't just about ambition. It was about proving something—to herself, to the ghosts whispering in the dark corners of her mind.
Yasagi nodded, then looked out the window.
"We're here."
The warehouse loomed ahead, its rusted doors like the gaping maw of a beast. Yuzuha's pulse spiked.
The same place. The same warehouse. Where she had ended Aoi's life.
She watched, frozen, as officers kicked the door open.
This is it. They'll find her. They'll find everything.
But—
The warehouse was empty.
Yuzuha stepped inside, breath caught in her throat.
Aoi's body… was gone.
Her mind screamed in protest. No. No, I killed her. She was here. I saw her eyes turn glassy, felt her last breath. So why…?
"Yuzuha-san,"Yasagi said behind her. "Looks like Aoi's not here. Maybe herkidnappers moved her?"
"Y-Yeah… Maybe,"she replied, voice barely a whisper.
But inside, her thoughts spiraled into a storm.
Who? Who moved her? Was this a trap? Was Aoi… alive?
She had to leave.
"I-I need to go home."
Yasagi studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Get some rest. If anything happens, call me."
At Yuzuha's Apartment
She sat on her bed, fingers curled into her sheets. What the hell just happened?
The silence in her room pressed against her skull. Aoi's body… gone. Who did this?
Then—
A message.
Her phone vibrated, cutting through the stillness.
She reached for it with hesitant fingers.
An unknown number.
She opened it.
A picture loaded.
Yuzuha's breath caught.
Aoi.
Alive? No. This wasn't right. The photo was too recent—too… intentional.
Then, a message followed:
"I can't believe you killed Aoi. You just made it easier for me."
Her body went ice cold.
Trembling, she typed: "Who are you? What do you want?"
The reply was instant.
"You'll know soon. But the fact is… I can see you. Every move. Every breath. I know more about you than you know about yourself."
Yuzuha's heart stopped.
"H-How?" she typed with shaking hands.
"I can see you right now. Sitting in your bed. Wearing a white nightdress."
She bolted upright, eyes darting to the window.
No one.
No one is there. No one. Right?
Another message.
"Tell me, Yuzuha… How does it feel? The people you loved—Kenzo, Aoi—your closest friends… Your biggest enemies."
Her fingers trembled over the keyboard.
"Who are you?"
"Does it matter? What matters is… can you trust anyone now?"
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
No. No, I can't.
Then, another message. A video file.
She hesitated, then tapped to play it.
A dimly lit room. A boy hunched over. Scratches and bruises covered his body. His breath came in short, shallow gasps.
Then he lifted his head.
Yuzuha's world shattered.
"Haruto."
Her voice barely left her lips.
Haruto.
Her bsf.
A final message appeared:
"Tell me, Yuzuha. In this world, who can you really believe?"
Darkness swallowed her whole.